Recruit
by saltytiff
Summary: Pinga recluctantly agrees to join Overwatch, leaving what little family she had behind. But as she arrives at the base, and gets used to life on the team, secrets start to unfold, and she finds out the real reason she was asked to join Overwatch.
1. chapter 1

bc i'm a stickler for dates n stuff: the year is 2067, the main character is 20 years old. for refrence she was born in the same year as Widowmaker (2043)

Enjoy :)

She was known as Eagle Eye on her reservation. People said she could shoot anything from anywhere, and they were not wrong. She was the best hunter in Northern Alaska, but she hated it.

Pinga, as she likes to be called, hated that she was only known only for that. She wished people would, instead spread word of her aim, spread word of her work. She's a sophmore in college, majoring in Native American history. With that, she wanted to teach in highschool, so her herritage is not forgotten.

She has already been learning the Inuit language, her father and elders teaching her since she was a little girl. Some of their other practices, such as physical stances to show power in a tribe, or even eye contact, she has been practicing recently.

It was a lot warmer this summer than what Pinga was used to. But today was chilly. According to the radio, a blizzard is supposed to roll in and stay throughout the day and night. She had wanted to sit in the backyard and work on her bow, but with it being below freezing she didn't want to risk getting frostbite.

So she sat in her room, bow and pocketknife in hand, her small box TV playing reruns of old sitcoms. She would have watched the news, but that channel wouldn't come in today.

She already had two bows, carved and stained, but she felt the need to make another one. Everything that she uses, including the arrows, is made by her. She uses different woods, depending on the style she's going for. Right now she had normal oak wood and was carving intricate designs into it.

Pinga had just started when the phone started ringing. She sighed, softly setting her things on the hardwood floor and getting up to answer it. The floor creaked as she walked out of her room and down the hallway, to the kitchen.

She pulled the phone off the wall, holding it up to her ear.

"Hello?" She asked timidly.

"Oh, Atiqtalaaq, I was worried no one was home," the old soul she knew was her Ama replied, her antique voice making Pinga smile. She had told her Ama multiple times she didn't like to be called by her real name, but she always forgot, or just chose not to remember. "Is your father home?"

"No, he is at work. I would be too, but my boss told me not to come in because of the big storm." She looked out the window to the front yard and driveway. It wasn't too sunny out, so she didn't have to put down the sun shades, but there were still faded parts of the flooring from overexposure.

"That's what I wanted to talk about! The storm is supposed to be huge, and we're supposed to get at least a foot of snow. I hope I make it through this one, you know these old bones will give out one day..." Pinga half-listened to her ramble on about her cats being scared and how she was going to have to cancel knitting night with her girlfriends.

She looked out the window again, seeing a small white car pull up in her driveway. She squinted, trying to see who was driving it, but the windows were extremely tinted. The doors slightly opened, and she dashed behind a wall, not wanting to be seen.

"...A-Ama, I'm going to have to call you back." she quickly hung the phone up. There were three raps on the door, and she hesitated for a moment. There were three more knocks, and she realized these people were not going away.

She glanced at her bow for a second, then quickly dismissed her thoughts. It might be someone she knows, with a new car. She shouldn't jump to conclusions.

She slowly unlocked the door, and one person was standing there. He looked a quite a bit older than her, maybe by a couple years. He had dark olive skin and brown hair, with a black jacket and hat and jeans on. His boots looked worn out, and jacket was ripped in some places and had scratches on it.

He cleared his throat.

"Hello. You must be Atiqtalaaq, right?" He asked, and she grew eerily suspicious. He said her name perfectly, probably even better than she herself could say it. Plus, not a lot of people know her real name, especially foreigners, so how did he know?

"Yes," Pinga said confidently. She didn't want to show how scared she actually was. "And who are you?"

"Commander Gabriel Reyes of Bl-Overwatch. May I come in?" She furrowed her brows before inhaling sharply through her nose. She had to let what he asked slide because he wasn't from around here and didn't know the culture. It's considered rude for people to ask to come in, he had to wait for the host to say if it's okay.

Pinga let him in, quickly shutting the door behind him so no more warm air could be let out. She didn't know if she completely trusted him. He just waltzed in, claiming he was the Commander of 'Overwatch.' Which is a huge statement.

She knows what Overwatch is, she's seen the news. The Omnic outbreak is now over, with much thanks to them, but she didn't have a lot to thank them for.

"I gotta talk fast, our flight is in a couple hours," He said, looking around the rooms he could see. "Can I sit down?" She nodded, then paused. Did he just say ' _our_ flight?'

"'Our' flight?" She questioned, hoping Gabriel had misspoken. She was already confused, but this just added to her list of questions.

"Yep," He said, walking and sitting down on a couch, glancing at the pile of letters on the coffee table before him. "Look kid, I need to be flat out here. Overwatch needs you, whether you accept that fact or not is up to you, but we aren't really giving you much of an option. You either come with us, or the security of this town, especially your family, could be compromised."

Pinga was angry. Who does this guy think he is? He can't just strut into her house, saying she has to work for Overwatch, _or else_. She was so frustrated, but knew she couldn't talk back to him, especially because he's a stranger. That is one of the most disrespectful things she could do in this situation.

"Why would my family be in danger?" She questioned, after taking a deep breath. Why would Overwatch put her family in danger, especially if they're known for doing good things?

He took a deep breath, looking at his hands before up to her.

"Overwatch, even as we are still dealing with effects of the Omnic Crisis, is trying to keep peace with as many people and organizations as possible. But, there is a terrorist organization rising, with the ideals of creating a better humanity using conflict. Of course, we strongly disagree with that, and we are trying to shut them down."

Pinga was listening intently, and her anger was slowly fading away. She knows that in order to understand where a person is coming from with their statements, she has to listen to them. Gabriel continued talking.

"But, we recently got inside information about their new recruits, and you were on their list," Pinga didn't say anything, trying to gather her thoughts. "We did research on you, and you're a perfect candidate for Overwatch."

a/n: this took me a long time to write, and i changed the plotline multiple times. but, i really like where this is headed. and i hope you like it too! so if you enjoyed this chapter, or if you have some constructive criticism about my writing, leave a review :))


	2. chapter 2

"W-would you like something to drink?" Pinga asked, a desparate look in her brown eyes.

"A water would be great, thanks." He replied, watching her as she got up and walked to the kitchen. As she got his water ready, she was deep in her thoughts. He could tell because she would bumped into two cabinets and overfilled his glass, water dripping to the floor.

With the water in hand, Pinga walked back into the living room and gave it to Gabriel. He thanked her and set it down. There was silence for a little bit, as she thought of what to say, and he waited for her response.

"I can't just leave my dad," she started, looking down at the pile of bills on the coffee table. "He won't be able to afford the house by himself. If I leave, the house will get foreclosed, and he'll have to move in with my Ama, or..." she trailed off. Gabe, although he showed little to no emotion on the outside, empathized with her. He remembered the worries and stress he had when he was deciding to join the military. But he knew what he needed to do, and that was to save lives.

"Can I see you shoot?" Gabriel asked, looking out the window to the backyard. Pinga didn't realize what he was doing, but it was working. He was trying to distract her, to make her focus on something else. He didn't need the water, but he knew she needed time to gather her thoughts.

She nodded, getting up.

They stood in her backyard, small snowflakes fluttering down from the sky. Pinga had her bow in hand and a pack of arrows laying in the snow. There were targets littered around the yard, whether multiple in trees or on the ground or pinned up on the clothesline. The harsh reds and blacks on the targets stood out on the pure white background.

She took an arrow, glancing at the paint on it. This set was one of the first ones she made, when she was no younger than eight or nine. The paint was faded, chipping at some parts, and the arrowhead small from how many times she's resharpened the point.

She set the arrow against the rest on the bow, holding the grip just below it tightly with her left hand. She drew back her right hand pulling the string all the way back until her hand was next to her ear.

Gabriel watched intently, every small movement he saw. She aimed for a target high in a tree, easily viewable because of the lack of leaves. And like a gunshot, she released the arrow. It sliced right through the air, and stuck to the target. It wobbled like a doorstopper, and he saw she hit the bullseye. He nodded, slightly impressed.

He pointed to another target, across the yard. Pinga reloaded her bow faster, aiming, and releasing the arrow. Slightly off the bullseye, but still would have killed. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the yard.

"Shoot these targets," Gabriel pointed to one slightly behind her, another straight infront of her on the clothes line, and the last exactly ninety degrees right. "As fast as you can."

He saw her take a deep breath, closing her eyes as she did. She was trying to clear her foggy head, to focus on her targets and only her targets.

Pinga took three arrows from the quiver, loading one and holding the other two with her right hand, which was also pulling back the string. Then, and if he would have blinked he would have missed it, she shot one. As if it were second nature, she took the second arrow between her pointer and middle finger, moved her body, aimed and shot. She did the same for the third target.

It took her five seconds. Gabriel was suprised, but felt a small pit in his stomach when he took a closer look at each of the targets. The first was off, between the second and third outer rings. The second was dead on, and the third was off the target completely and in the tree.

He was concerned at how much Pinga's worries were affecting her aim. If she preformed like this when they were on a mission, she wouldn't survive. She needed a lot more training than they anticipated, and not just in physical areas.

"I'm sorry, I can redo that," she sighed, her head in her hands. She was rubbing the sides of her forehead. She was mad at herself, he could tell. "I wasn't focused, and I could've done a lot better."

Gabriel shook his head, knowing she would do worse if she retried. Her anger would cloud her head even more.

Pinga nodded, looking down at her quiver. She picked it up.

"You may head inside. My father should be home now, you can talk to him while I grab the arrows." She looked back up to him. He wasn't smiling, or frowning. Just a straight, emotionless look painted on.

"Alright. I will speak with him about what we talked about." Gabriel turned around, stalking back to the patio door.

Atiqtalaaq sat down where she was previously standing, looking up to the sky. Curling her pointer finger like a hook, she pulled out the ponytail holding her thick, wavy hair up. It all fell to her sides like a curtain, the split ends brushing the snow on the ground.

"Oh, Pinga," she started her prayer, still gazing off into the white sky. She wasn't speaking English, but Inuit, her native language. "Goddess of hunt, fertility and medicine. I pray that the babies born today are all healthy and well. I pray that the deer and geese will be fat for the hunting season in the fall, and for more advancements to be made in sceince."

Doing this kept her from delving off into her thoughts, and helped her clear her mind of her worries, which she was neck deep in at the moment.

"Anaana, how are you doing today?" She was now having a conversation with her mother, who she hoped was listening. "I hope well... For me, I am not well. I am in distress, and in need of your guidence. I have a decision to make, and no matter what I choose something bad could happen. I need you to light the path for me, to lead me to the right decision." She hesitated for a moment, then decided not to say anything more.

Atiqtalaaq opened her eyes, and finally heard the patio door close.


	3. Chapter 3

Pinga looked at her father, who was talking to Gabriel. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and it scared her. Usually she could read him like a book, but he had a poker face on. He was trying to hide what he actually felt.

She didn't know what to do or say, so she stood near the door that lead to the garage. Gabriel looked over to her.

"Pinga, we need to leave soon. Pack your belongings," he instructed before his phone went off. She wanted to protest, to say she hasn't made her descision yet, but her voice was caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "I need to take this."

"I will help you," her father said quickly, walking over to her and putting a firm hand on her back, slightly pushing her to her room. "Come on."

They walked into her room and she sat on her bed, head in hands. She wanted to break down, to curl up in a ball and cry, but she couldn't. She had to stay strong, for her father and herself.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," she whispered, and he opened her closet, looking for something. "I can't just leave you. I can't." He bent over, grabbing the something and picking it up.

It was her big duffel bag.

"No, no dad." Pinga said firmly, and he hushed her, setting it on her bed next to her and opening it.

"You must go. It is your calling," He spoke, his strong, tall stature looming over her. She was about to start protesting but he continued talking. "I have been selfish, and kept you in the nest for far too long. You have been supporting me, even after you have gone off to college, and now it is my turn to support you."

He knelt down next to her, looking into Pinga's eyes. She met his gaze, daring not to look away. He was showing his power as an elder over her by keeping the gaze and not looking away.

"You will go." He said, still looking at her. This was not something she could dismiss now. He was demanding her.

Pinga felt something so wrong in packing her bag. Her ties to this town made it all the harder to leave. Her Ama and father, her childhood friends, her teachers, she didn't know the next time she'd see them. She didn't know how long she'd be gone, maybe one year or maybe ten.

She tried packing light, but that was hard. She knew she needed toiletries, different types of clothes for different seasons, small possessions she held near to her heart, and of course her bows and arrows. In all, she has four bows, three finished and one she's still working on. She decided to bring two of her finished bows and the one work in progress. She also made sure to bring her two quivers, one wooden and one cloth.

Pinga took one last look at her room. Her heart hurt with all the memories that came flooding in. All the sleepovers she had, the temper tantrums she threw, the sleepless nights she was up studying for exams, she knew she would never forget those moments.

She sighed, turning off the lights on an old chapter of her life.

 _a/n: i'm thinking about making this a comic? or at least drawing out the main character. I also want to like plan out her attacks and ult like she's an actual playable character, just because I think it'd be fun lol_


	4. Chapter 4

Pinga could not fall asleep on the plane.

It was a small plane, maybe ten seats maximum. Gabriel had said this was the only plane flying straight to Switzerland with one stop to refuel.

There were so many thoughts swimming through her head, but she couldn't stop thinking about their conversation in the car.

 _"What is your town like?" Gabriel asked, breaking the silence in the car. "The people, the culture..." He trailed off, keeping his eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel._

 _"The people are very relaxed. No one is ever angry, usually," Pinga started, looking out the window at the falling snow. It was a lot wetter and heavier than before, and she was starting to worry about the plane ride. "We like to be quiet and respectful. During the day, the streets can get loud with kids and teens out, but at night it's always silent."_

 _He thought for a moment, nodding._

 _"The people in Overwatch... are not like that," he said, still keeping his eyes on the road. "There are a lot of different people, with a lot of different cultural backgrounds. So they have to learn to be respectful to you, and you have to be respectful to them. Also, quiet isn't really a thing. It's always loud, especially if we're celebrating something."_

 _Pinga nodded. She was nervous about fitting in, like it was highschool all over again. But she was also nervous about getting acclimated to the the loud people. Being quiet and level-headed was a big part of her culture, but she also got very disoriented and stressed in a large group of noisy people._

 _Her whole life, she was surrounded by a small circle of people—her dad, mom, grandma, grandpa and her couple of friends. But it slowly got smaller and smaller, with her mothers death, her grandpa losing contact, and her real friends dissipating._

Pinga looked over to Gabriel, who was sleeping against the window. He was snoring, but it was hard to hear over the engines and wind. She switched her gaze to the window, not seeing a lot except for the dark sky.

As she continued staring out the window, her eyes got droopy and she got more drowsy. Her mind, which was racing before, was putting on the brakes until it came to a stop, and sleep finally enveloped her.

The plane had landed in a teensy airport up in the mountains, which was a lot like the airport the originally flew out of. The five people working there spoke little english, and were in bad moods because of the time of day.

They had switched to an even smaller jet, which Gabriel was driving. Pinga was skeptical, especially since he seemed pretty tired, but she didn't say anything. He said the only way to get to the Overwatch base was by air, and this was the only thing (other than a car) he was licensed to drive.

It took them no longer than a half an hour to get to the base. And once they got there, they were greeted by an ominous voice.

"Hello, Commander Reyes," it said as they exited the jet. Pinga didn't realize how big the hangar they parked in was until she stepped out. "It is currently two hours and twelve minutes and I sense you have a guest with you. Is it safe to assume that is the new recruit, Atiqtalaaq?" She looked around for the source, brows furrowed in complete confusion.

"Yes, Athena," Gabriel looked over to Pinga and laughed at her. "The voice is Athena, she's sort of like... everyones personal assistant. She's an A.I, and is smarter than the Omnics ever were."

"I prefer to be called a 'friend' than an assistant." She warned, but didn't sound too bothered. They had now reached the iron door that separated the hangar from what she assumed was the rest of the complex. Gabriel typed in a code, and the door slid open.

They walked in a mud room, with different lockers and cubbies for the members. He walked to one cubby nearest the door, and put his coat, hat and gloves away. He also walked to a storage rack for what she was guessing keys to all the planes and jets in the hangar. They continued through another door and into a sort of crossroads for different rooms.

To the left was a training facility, with glass windows looking down into it. To the right was a small sitting area with plastic chairs. In front of her was two stairways, one leading up and one leading down. In between them led to some sort of eating hall.

Pinga readjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder and followed Gabriel upstairs. She looked back down halfway up the stairwell and noticed that all the lights were off, and he hadn't touched anything.

In front of them was a long hallway with multiple doors on each side. Next to the doors were little keypads, which she was guessing opened the door for specific people. They continued walking, and walking and walking until they reached a room at the end of the hallway.

He pushed numbers into the keypad. It lit up orange and beeped, which prompted him to type something else in. It beeped twice and the color changed to green. The door then silently slid open, and a small room was neatly laid out in front of them.

"This is your living quarters," he explained, opening his arm and inviting her in. "You will sleep here, and whatever time you don't spend with others or training will be spent here."

She walked in, and could almost feel the dust in the air. There was a floor to ceiling window that made up the whole wall across from her. There was a desk with a brand new computer on it. To her right was a simple queen sized bed, the head of it right next to the door. Adjacent to that was a dresser and the last wall to the left had a closet.

"Athena will wake you up eight hours from when you fall asleep. Get ready for the day, and someone will be here to show you around. I'd wear something comfortable, because your day will be busy with different tests, medical examinations, and a small training regimen towards the end of the day. But you'll change before that."

Pinga turned around to face him as he spoke, and nodded when he was finished. The light at the end of the hallway cast a shadow over his face and poured into the dark room. The only other light source was the moonlight from the big window.

"Make yourself at home and I'll see you tomorrow." He finished, nodding once before stalking off. As he left, the door glided shut and she was left alone with her thoughts.

She set her duffel bag by the desk and sat on the bed. Nothing was warm or inviting so she didn't know how she could 'make herself at home.' The bed wasn't even super comfortable, like how you'd think a bed in a hotel would feel.

Pinga let her thoughts linger for a little longer as she stared out the window. She then changed into her pajamas and slipped into bed, letting sleep come softly.


	5. Chapter 5

Pinga was woken up at almost 11 o'clock by Athena practically yelling at her. She sat up, her eyes rejecting the bright sunlight flooding in from the window.

"Sorry, Atiqtalaaq. You are a heavy sleeper. And a loud one too," She smiled sheepishly and got up, yawning and stretching. "Commander Morrison will be here shortly to show you around the facility and bring you to the medical wing."

She furrowed her brows in confusion as she grabbed a pair of black sweatpants and a lighter colored t-shirt.

"I thought Gabriel was the Commander?" Pinga asked as she lotionized, deodorized and clothed herself. That was what he said when he showed up at her house, wasn't it?

"He _was_ Commander. But the United Nations deemed Jack Morrison more fit for the job. Gabe is not happy about it, so I would advise to not bring it up in front of him."

Pinga nodded as there was a knock at her door. She glanced at the beautiful scenery just beyond her room before walking to the door and pressing a button. The door slid open.

Standing before her was a man, quite a few years older than her. Maybe Gabriels age? He had blonde hair and a soldier-like stance, and was dressed in a plain t-shirt that slightly hugged his figure, cargo pants and lace-up boots.

"Atiqtalaaq, hello," he greeted, his blue eyes staring into her brown ones. "I'm Commander Jack Morrison, but you can call me Commander." He reached his hand out for a shake, and she hesitantly shook it. He definitely sounded and looked American, possibly midwestern? She wasn't for sure.

"We have a lot of things planned for you in the coming days," he moved over, letting her walk out of the room before they started walking down the long, long hallway. "Right now we're going to head all the way down to the medical department, where Dr. Ziegler will examine and run tests on you. Don't worry though, I know you'll ace them."

Pinga smiled as they stepped down to the main level. As they walked past the common area, she saw a couple people sitting there and a few more sitting in the eating area past it. A few of the people looked over and instinctly she whipped her head back to look at the Commander.

He continued on about how amazing of a doctor the lady is, and how no matter how miniscule the injury she'll make sure you're okay.

As they made it down to the bottom level, she saw double doors and glass windows leading into some sort of training facility There were a couple people in there right now and a few more running around the track on the outside.

They continued off into a medical wing with multiple different doors leading different places until they got to the end of the hallway. Commander knocked on the door, and after a couple seconds it opened, revealing a tall blonde with the white doctors coat on. She smiled and ushered them in.

"Ah, come in Commander," she closed the door after them before scurrying to her desk. "and I see you brought our new friend, Atiqtalaaq." Pinga nodded, wondering how these people knew how to say her name so well. She would've corrected them too, and told them to call her Pinga, but she didn't want to be a bigger burden.

"I've gotta go, I have another training session. But thank you Doctor, for doing all these things for me." He smiled before walking out again.

"Danke Commander," she nodded, then turned to Pinga. "You may sit down. I'm going to ask you a few health-related questions, run a physical and take some blood tests. Sound good?"

Pinga hesitantly nodded.

The questions were the easiest part. Then it got harder. The physical was challenging because she doesn't spend a lot of time running, and she is definetly not fast. The blood tests didn't bother her, but afterwards she felt lightheaded and almost fainted. Dr. Ziegler made her sit down and eat a cookie.

"Physically, mentally and socially, this first week or two will probably be the hardest for you," she started, watching Pinga as she tore off small pieces of the chocolate chip cookie and eat them. "We want you to build muscle memory and get familiar with different weapons and fighting techniques, so I have a pill here for you to take once a day." she slid the pill bottle to the younger girl.

"The side effects are minimal; nausea, dizziness and headaches. If you experience anything else, report it to me right away." Pinga picked up the bottle, examining it.

"Your diet will be strict, and you must eat exactly what the planner says at every designated time. Your workouts are based on what you eat and vice versa, so it is crucial that you stick to it. You can see your planner in your room, the kitchen and mud room."

Pinga felt like she should be taking notes on this, because she was afraid she would forget something important.

As the doctor was finishing up, there was a knock on the door, and in walked Gabriel.


	6. Chapter 6

Gabe and Pinga walked down the hallway and up the stairs.

"Commander Morrison was supposed to be with you today, but he's... gotten busy," He said, resentment clear in his voice. "I just finished training, so I will be accompanying you." She nodded, following behind him.

They past into the commons area and into the dining hall, where a few other people were eating their lunches. Pinga dipped her head down when one person made eye contact with her. He had dark hair and a robotic arm with red tubes sticking out of it. He didn't have a shirt on, but she assumed he had some pants on.

Even after they walked past, she could feel his harsh stare on the back of her head.

There was a long bar at the back of the room that was set up buffet-style. There was a section of it that had a variety of food warming trays, and a different part that was a cooler. Gabe stopped in front of the cooler for a second before walking to where the plates were sitting. Pinga peered down into the cooler as she walked past and saw some fruit, yogurt and brown paper bags with names on them.

"Dr. Ziegler has a list of everything you need to eat." he said, grabbing a post-it note from his pocket. He handed it to her, and she read it. Everything was precise, down to how many pieces of cantaloupe she had to eat.

Gabe zipped through the line, knowing exactly what to put on his plate. As for Pinga, she spent several minutes reading labels for the foods and getting exact measurments of everything. By the time she was through, she had a medium sized chicken breast, one spoonful of whole grain italian pasta, "about a palm full" of steamed vegetables, one small apple, a carton of skim milk and a water bottle.

She had no clue how she was going to eat all that.

Gabe was waiting pateintly for her at the end, a small smile on his face. She followed behind him again as they started walking towards the table where the robot guy was sitting.

"Just as long as you have the type of food on your plate, it doesn't matter how much you have of it." he advised, sitting down next to the guy. Pinga quickly sat next to Gabe, not wanting to make much contact with new people.

Aside from her, Gabe and robot guy, there was one other person sitting across from them. He had a cowboy hat and some sort of orange shawl on. He was definitely American.

"McCree, Genji, this is Atiqtalaaq." Gabe introduced them, and she gave a little smile in response. The robot just stared at her.

"Hello Miss, th'names Jesse McCree, but people 'round here just call me McCree." he stated, pushing his hand out for her to shake. She took it, firmly shaking it up and down and continuing eye contact with him. He had a southern accent and she knew he was a colonizer.

"You can just call me Pinga." she replied, breaking the shake and looking down to her food. She started to eat the vegetables, getting the worst done with first.

She felt something move under the table before Genji talked.

"Genji." was all he said, which was a lackluster way to introduce himself. She just nodded and smiled to him, trying hard not to judge him before she got to know him better.

As they each respectively ate their lunches and McCree started telling some crazy story, Pinga kept thinking about her dad. She wished she had a way to call him, just to hear his voice again. She needed him to tell her that this was the right choice, or that he could make it without her. But she knew that she had to believe in herself before other people could believe in her.

Pinga realized that Genji now paid no attention to her, but she would catch the cowboy staring at her out of the corner of her eye. There was another movement under the table after he was "glancing" for too long and he didn't look at her again for the rest of that meal.

After lunch she had to go back down to the medical lab for Dr. Ziegler to do more examinations. When she exclaimed that the "poor girl is practically blind" after the eye test, Pinga was not suprised. Her vision had recently been getting worse, which was affecting her aim. It didn't even take the doctor ten minutes to create a pair of glasses with the exact perscription she needed.

"For now you can wear these," she said, handing them to the poor girl. "When we know more about what you'll be doing in the battlefield, we'll make you some contacts."


End file.
